


The People v. Lorna Zhao

by friendlyrejection



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3, Fallout 4
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Drunk Sex, F/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2018-12-26 00:37:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12047655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlyrejection/pseuds/friendlyrejection
Summary: One month in Megaton, two kinky badasses, and three reasons this was a bad idea.





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> And four things I need to get to before you read this:  
> 1\. This is a continuation of a comic I'm working on, which won't be done before this is, so like, deal.  
> 2\. This is Lorna: http://friendlyrejectedarts.tumblr.com/search/lorna jsyk  
> 3\. I havent played fo3 in years and im not going to play it again, i cant go back to those jank controls. so if there are inconsistencies with the Lore, suck my ass  
> 4\. Chapters 2, 4, 6, and 10 are going to be pure unadulterated smut, I'm separating them into chapters for your jerking pleasure.  
> Now that that's out of the way, lets get this freak show rolling

Grey. Just how she remembered it. Just like she left it. Of the long list of reasons she gave herself as to why she left, this was up there. If it wasn't literally everything else about the Capital, she would have gone crazy if she had to spend another six years looking at those damn stupid fucking grey hills. But something about the place felt hallowed in her mind; like walking through a church. Megaton was still standing, just as grey and rusted as ever. Maybe even more. Hancock took a deep drag of his cigarette and blew an impressive series of smoke rings into the fog. 

He smiled and side eyed her, “Impressed yet?” 

Lorna exhaled her own cloud of smoke through her nose and looked down towards him, “Nah,” she lied. Hancock scoffed and went back to his musty cigarette. They stood on the top of the hill and smoked as a silence which could only be described as “evasion” hung between them.

Hancock finally broke the quiet, “Wanna remind me why we’re standin’ outside?” gesturing to the door behind them.

“It’s a no smoking zone,” Lorna replied, and Hancock bent over with a raspy laugh. But when he came back up for air the wry smirk he expected of Lorna was nowhere to be found. Instead she was still, staring at the cigarette held between her fingers like she was reading the story of her life in the clinging ashes. 

“You alright, sister?”

Lorna hadn’t really been alright in a long time. Twelve years of losing everyone she dared to care about had made sure of that. She thought leaving it all behind would have made it easier: pick up and go somewhere with new people she didn't have to care about and their problems to occupy herself with. She would still be able to satisfy her ego without getting too attached. But it was hard to run from your problems when they were lodged between your shoulder blades, seeing MacCready’s new “family” with General Housewife cemented that. And if she ever wanted to sleep comfortably again she would need help pulling out that proverbial knife. It was the whole reason she asked Hancock to come with her to the Capital for the month. It had been a while since she'd traveled with someone, much less been in relative proximity of another person for longer than 72 hours. He wasn't going to magically solve all her problems, but at the very least it was a start. Besides, he was cute, he could keep up with her, and there were promises she made in the bedroom of Goodneighbor’s state house that she intended to keep. And who knows, maybe he needed to run from something too. 

Lorna came back down to earth and tossed her cigarette down the hill, “Yeah, let's go.”

She wheeled her motorcycle over to the gate and banged a fist on the corrugated metal, “Lucas! I still have that deed so you have to let me in.” Machinery creaked and groaned, pulling apart like a curtain revealing Lucas Simms, standing where he always stood, which for some reason put Lorna on edge. 

“Trouble’s come back around again, huh?” He drawled, smirking in her direction. 

“Gotta give you somethin’ to do, don't I? Can't let you sit on your ass forever.” 

“Took you long enough. If I hadn't heard you came through last week I was gonna put your place back on the market; thought you disappeared for good.” 

“Well you're gonna have to try a lot harder than that to get rid of me.” Lorna kept walking past and Hancock followed, holding his arms behind his back in a show of mock innocence. 

He waltzed around Lorna’s other side and tipped his tricorn at the sheriff, “Howdy,” slinking backward with a squint and a smirk. 

“Real comedian, huh?” 

“I’ll be here all month.” Lucas grumbled something under his breath and Hancock fell in step alongside Lorna. 

He found that wry smirk he was looking for earlier and she warned him, “Careful; you piss him off too much and I might not be able to get you back in town.” 

“Eh, wouldn't be the first time.” They rounded a corner and Lorna propped her bike on the railing, dug around a saddle bag for a key, and swung the door open. The two were immediately bombarded by a cloud of musty air and dust, leaving them coughing and rubbing irradiated dust particles out of their eyes. 

“Jesus Christ, did a bomb go off?” Hancock asked, waving his hat at the dust cloud, trying to intimidate it.

“I haven't been here in awhile,” Lorna pulled the breast of her jacket over her mouth and hazard a step into this hostile environment.

“How long is ‘awhile’ to you?”

“‘Bout six years, give or take a couple months?” She made her way through the front room and opened a panel in the wall, making a set of fans rumble and screech to life. She came back out, leaving the door open, “Probably should leave that for a bit. In the meantime, let me show you around.”

“Gonna show me around later, too?” Hancock was leaning against the railing next to her bike, the sunlight filtering through the fog making him almost glow ahead of her. With hooded eyes and a wry smile she walked past him, slugging him in the arm on the way, “Yeah, let’s go.”

 

The tour took all of about five minutes, and Lorna decided to just go to Craterside to get some food to last the month. When Lorna opened the door to the shop, she was not greeted by the plucky mad scientist sitting at the counter like she expected, but by a little brown haired boy with glasses too big for his head. He looked up from the copy of _Lying, Congressional Style_ between his elbows on the counter, and Lorna looked back. After a beat, Hancock peaked his head over Lorna’s arm propping the door open and joined in the looking. 

“So she finally blew herself up, huh?”

“Missuz Brown! You got a customer,” he yelled out into the building and went back to reading. 

After a clank of machinery and a trot-trot-trot down the stairs, Moira appeared in the doorway and erupted into a giddy squeal, _“Lorna!_ Where in Hell’s bells have you _been?_ ”

“Busy,” Lorna swaggered her way into the shop, Hancock catching the door behind her. 

Moira rubbed something black off her hands and made it over to the counter “I was so _worried_ , you didn't tell anyone where you were going or when you’d be back; I was sure you got eaten up out there!”

“I thought you wrote an entire book about how hard it was to kill me?” Lorna leaned against the counter and Moira laughed, the kid sitting at the stool sharing a look with Hancock to the tune of ‘The Only Thing We Have In Common Is That I Don't Know Who You Brought With You’.

Moira settled her elbows on the counter, leaning over them with a gleam in her eye, “So what are you doin’ back in town? And who’s your friend?”

“Just to meet with some Brotherhood creeps for a job. I’ll be going up to the Commonwealth in about a month. And this is Hancock,” motioning to him with a toss of her head.

“Mayor of Goodneighbor John Hancock at your service, sister.” He tipped the front of his tricorn up with a small salute. 

“Oh how exciting!” she said with a small clap of her hands. 

“While we’re catching up, d’ya think we could get some groceries?” Lorna asked.

“Oh of course! Gosh, look at me, tryna starve you for information!” Moira giggled at herself and placed a hand on the boy’s back, “Danny honey can you get a pack setup for my friend here?” And with that he hopped off the stool and towards the back.

“Whats with the kid?” Lorna asked, watching him trot away.

“Oh that’s our little fire-starter, Danny,” she started, also watching as he went, then in an aside, “Lucas caught him tryna set fire to the armory. Thought it’d be best if I kept an eye on him.”

“Fun. So what’s happened while I’ve been gone?” 

Moira propped her chin in her hands, beginning despondently “Nothing aside from the usual nothing,” then, perking up considerably, “But the guide has been selling great! Those traders just can't get enough of ‘em! I even made enough to get my very own printing press. I’m hoping that I can sell the shop and start printing all kinds of books, wouldn't that be just fantastic? Although, it _has_ been a project to get it in working order, but I’m gettin’ there.” And then Danny came back to the front, carrying a box full of packaged and fresh food, with a pyramid of water bottles to boot. 

“Thanks little man,” Lorna said as she hefted the box to one side, tousling his hair and knocking his glasses askew.

“Oh, have you heard from Butch at all? If I remember right, he left just around the same time you did,” Moira asked.

Lorna stiffened slightly, jaw setting backward and shoulder blades tightening in a way Hancock wouldn't have registered if he wasn't standing behind her. “Nope. If he wants to be gone, then I’m not stopping him.”

“Oh thats too bad, he used to come around all the time with you! Got any idea where he might have gone to?”

“Don't know, don't care,” Lorna was interrupted by a loud clash from upstairs and Moira cringed, looking like this wasn't the first time this had happened.

“Once I can get that thing working, all these migraines would have been worth it.”

Lorna slapped a handful of caps on the counter, “Well I wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you,” and turned for the door just in time to miss Moira’s heart break into pieces. Hancock stood confused as Lorna walked around him and out the door, and saw Moira twisting a rag and looking down at the caps on the counter. The door slammed behind him, breaking him out of his stupor.

“Uh… Sorry ‘bout that, sister, lemme just,” and he strided out the door, leaving Moira and Danny, who patted a hand on Moira’s arm.

“Hey, what’s with the third degree?” Hancock rasped after catching up with Lorna, who was already half way across town.

“What?” she replied, not hiding her irritation.

“I don't know how you treat your friends, but where I-”

“Thats right, you _don’t_ ,” Lorna stopped at the foot of the ramp, facing him square on, “So let me worry about my life, and you can worry about yours, alright?” and something in her eyes looked exhausted. Not a skin deep, ‘I haven't slept in three days’ exhaustion, but like her soul was tired from more sleepless nights than she could have ever possibly experienced. Hancock stilled, taking in her intense brown eyes, and she turned before she could see his face could change. 

Lorna stepped inside her house, which was no longer clogged with dust, but still made her throat constrict against an invisible pain. She swallowed past it, setting the box on a shelf in the tiny kitchen. 

She stood, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling how hollow the place was, until Hancock came through the doorway. “Hey,” he started, leaning against the door frame, “Wanna get a drink? I’ve always wanted to get smashed at a saloon.” 

Lorna turned, running a hand through her hair, “Sounds like a plan.”


	2. Returning The Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DRUNK ORAL SEX!

After Moriarty ‘mysteriously skipped town’, Gob changed the name, but only on the top sign. Why he felt so compelled to climb all the way onto the roof instead of just getting a ladder and doing the bottom one, Lorna didn't know, and she was too stoned to care. They’d gotten to Gob’s awhile ago, sharing drinks while her, Hancock, Gob and Nova shot the shit and got drunk. Hancock was saying something about self determination, sounding surprisingly competent after three shots of moonshine and five beers. Lorna had a little more on him, and she could feel herself losing what little self control she had. And the space underneath Hancock’s jaw was driving her crazy. 

Lorna leaned off the barstool, clutching a fist full of his coat to catch herself, and leaned into that space, the alcohol hard on her voice, “As much as I’d like to lay you out on the bar and fuck you in front of everyone, that might not make a very good impression. So why don't we go back to my place and I’ll make good on one of those promises, yeah?” Hancock’s breath was caught the second she leaned her lips over to his neck, and he let it out hot and deep, a wicked smile growing on his face. Lorna pulled him off the stool, Hancock tumbling after trying to keep his hat on, and yelled out at Gob to start a tab. 

By the time they got across town and behind her door they couldn't keep their hands off each other even if they tried. They kissed drunk and sloppy passion, Lorna sucking invisible hickies into his neck. Hancock, one hand tucked in the waistband of her hip and the other wiggling its way into her back pocket, was too blissed out to notice Lorna unbuckling his belt until she shoved a hand down his pants and plamed his cock, making him groan at the contact. She breathed hot air into the crook of his neck and shivered, the heat of the alcohol and sex combating the cold temperature. She made her way down his chest, practically ripping open his shirt to suck at the skin there as she knelt in front of him, pulling his half hard cock out of his pants.

“Want it that badly, huh?” he said, putting a hand to the back of her head, relishing in how she had to look up at him for once. Instead of replying, Lorna took all of him in her mouth at once, making Hancock slam his head on the door behind him, leaning against it to avoid from falling over completely. Lorna pulled him out with a pop, his cock now overly sensitive against the cold air, making her hot breath on his head even more amazing. She licked a stripe on the underside of his length, tracing a vein there, pushing a hand up to his waist and holding him against the door. 

“Ya know, if I didn't know these people I would have done it,” Lorna said, stroking him slowly with a careful turn of her wrist.

“What?” Hancock lobbed his head off the door and looked down at her, hands making their way to her hair.

“Fucked you at the bar,” she replied with a slight pant, mouth open and hot, and Hancock couldn't help but curl fistfulls of her long black hair at the very idea. Lorna took him about half way, rounding her tongue over his head making pervertedly sweet sounds ring out around the room. 

“Yeah?” he egged her on, and she took him in fully again, making a low rumble run out from his chest before he could continue. He could feel her throat moving around him, how she needed to  _ focus _ on masking her gag reflex in order to take him all. “You’d use that smart mouth to suck me off in front of everyone?” he rasped, carefully moving a fist full of hair back so he could see her sharp eyes looking up at him. 

Something in Lorna’s chest dropped, and she moaned in near painful ecstasy, the vibrations thrumming around Hancock almost making him double over. She brought her hand down from his hip, needing to do something about the heat pooling in her jeans. She undid the button of her pants and spread her legs wide, giving her hand room to put a finger into her dripping cunt, moaning again and making Hancock’s foot jut forward. She started bobbing her head and hand around him, flattening her tongue and craving the feeling of his head against the back of her throat. 

Hancock smacked his head against the door again, sliding down just a fraction, using all the power he had in his wiry frame to keep himself upright, “God, you're so amazing.” He was getting close. He took shallow, helpless breaths as Lorna swallowed the drops of precome and came off his cock, mouth open and watering with the taste of him. She looked up at him, breathing heavy with one hand on his cock and the other down her pants, and the heat pooling in the bottom of Hancock’s stomach began to boil. He moved his hand to her cheek, popping his thumb into her open mouth and feeling the pad of her tongue, pulling out and spreading his favorite shade of lip gloss on her bottom lip.

“You look real pretty like that,” he said, transfixed in the intensity of her dark brown eyes. 

“I know. Shut up and come,” and she pulled him back into her mouth, bobbing her head around his length and hollowing her cheeks. Hancock sucked a breath between his teeth and everything hits him all at once. His back against the front door, the only thing separating them from a town he’s never been to with a girl he barely knows on her knees in front of him fucking herself on her hand while she runs her tongue along the tip of his swollen head and he’s coming, holding her head to him and pulling her hair, making shallow thrusts into her throat as she swallows expertly around him, not leaving a drop. He groaned, sinking his way down the door and plopping on the floor as Lorna leaned back, shucking off her jacket. 

“God  _ dammit _ , you're good at that.” Hancock breathed, dragging the heel of his hand up his temple, knocking his hat askew. 

Lorna was going at the straps to her bulletproof vest, stopping to lean over and get up in his face, “Thanks. I’ve had a lot of practice.” and she kissed him, the taste of cum still thick in her mouth. Hancock relished in it, taking her deeper into the kiss than Lorna was expecting. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pushing off the door and laying her down in front of him all the while kissing her harshly, Lorna blinking in quiet surprise. 

Hancock finally released her, arms on either side of her midnight hair sprawled out on the floor, “You're such a gentleman,” she drawled behind hooded eyes, undoing the rest of her straps. 

“You never had a guy who knows how to repay the favor?” he asked, genuinely shocked. 

“Not many. I usually have to boss ‘em around first.” she said, pulling the vest over her head, revealing a thin cotton tank top, grey with age.

“I mean, you can boss me around if you want.” Hancock's mouth curled into a smile and the spark between them catalogued a promise in the back of Lorna’s mind, something she’d have to remember for later. 

She smiled, the wry smirk Hancock was getting better at finding, “Then shut up and get to work,” pushing his hat backward off his head. He ducked his head into the crook of her neck, trailing wet kisses down her jaw, making her head tilt up and breathe soft moans into the air. Hancock trailed a hand up her shirt, palming at her breast, supporting himself with the other hand and kissing his way down her collarbone. Lorna couldn't help but ripple at his touch; he was so unbelievably  _ warm _ , her bare skin against the cold air and floor didn't even bother her as long as he kept as close as he was. 

Hancock kissed down to her navel, heat pulling from her stomach and down deeper. He took his time, planting wet kisses around the curve of her waist and avoiding any inch of skin below her hips. With every touch of his lips against her stomach her need grew until it was almost painful. There was something about how he treated her that she couldn't quite place through the haze of alcohol, but she was definitely getting restless. She writhed under his careful touch, pushing at his shoulders.

“John, come  _ on, _ ” she said impatiently.

“Hm? You need somthin’?” He replied like she caught him in the middle of an interesting book.

“Dammit, you know what I want, asshole.”

“Lemme hear ya say it,” lightly trailing a finger to where her stomach ended and her underwear began, but no further.

Easy. “I want you to lick my pussy and fuck me with your hand.”

“How bad do you want it?” Hancock hovered over her, stilling as he waited for an answer.

“What?”

“C’mon, sister, what's the magic word?”

“John.” Her voice was no longer dripping honey-wine and heat, but a solid steel sledge hammer poised above his head, ready to pull back and strike. Lorna made it abundantly clear with a single syllable that her patience was wearing thin, and the sober part of him would have known he was pushing it. But when Hancock pressed a hand to the inside of her thigh, just inches and a sliver of fabric away from what she needed, a tiny breath of a crack broke in her resolve, “ _ Please! _ ”, fisting her hands in his coat. 

“‘Atta girl.” And Hancock went to peel her pants down.

“You fucking son of a bitch,” He pulled them around the curve of her ass as she lifted her hips, “I'm gonna kick your ass so bad,” shucked them down to her ankles and tugged off her boots, “I’m gonna kill you,” pulled her underwear down too, “I'm gonna rip your goddamn head off and--  _ Aah! Oh God! _ ” Hancock lapped at her cunt before she could say anything else, hands keeping her thighs spread apart before him. 

She was dripping wet, so slick from fucking herself earlier that there was no resistance as Hancock entered her with a finger, lapping up her folds and lightly over her clit. He savored everything about Lorna in this moment: her musky taste on his tongue, her incredible moans as he crooked his finger inside her, the gathering sweat on her thigh as he held her there. He pulled out of her for a moment, taking a few forceful licks at her opening, making Lorna stifle screams into her fist as she palmed her breast with her other hand. Hancock entered again with two fingers this time, his free hand circling her clit, her back arching off the floor as he did. 

“God, John!” She cried, tweaking a nipple, “ _ Fuck! _ ” 

“You still wanna kill me?” Hancock asked, curling his fingers against her walls slowly, dragging every ounce of pleasure he could from her.

“If you stop you’ll be going back to the Commonwealth in a bag.” Even though Lorna was the most pliable she could have possibly been underneath his fingertips, he decided not to test her this time.

“...Yes ma’am,” and with that she let out a filthy sob, clinging to the shoulders of his jacket as Hancock smiled to himself. She was definitely something. He lowered his head back between her legs, her knees pulling up and around his head, and lapped at her clit with the flat of his tongue, fingers working up a pace in and out of her. Lorna had her hands at the back of his head, keeping him there as her moaning got more desperate. He could feel her coiling, constricting around his fingers and taking small, vulnerable breaths mixed with cries that could only be described as snake venom mixed with honey. With a candy-coated suck on her clit and a perfect point of pressure against her walls she came, a crescendo to the tune of Hancock’s name that couldn't have been sweeter. 

Lorna took haphazard gulps of air, running a hand through her hair as Hancock massaged the inside of her thigh as she came down. He examined his sticky fingers coyly, watching strands of cum stretch like spider silk as he separated them, before licking them clean just as Lorna looked back up. 

“Are you serious?” she asked incredulously.

“You taste too good, sister,” and Hancock sucked on his fingers, moaning at the taste. 

“Alright try-hard, I already came,” she said with a smile. 

“Wanna make this a double feature?” Hancock trailed his wet fingers down her stomach, and as the post-orgasm clarity came to her she remembered they were lying on the floor.

“I’d rather sleep on a bed tonight instead of the goddamn ground.”

“...Fair enough.” And as Hancock went to collect himself off the floor, Lorna grabbed onto the sleeve of his jacket.

“Wait.”

“What? What’s wrong?” he asked with a worried urgency that Lorna wasn't particularly fond of.

“I can't move my legs.”

Hancock doubled over laughing as Lorna cursed and swatted him on the arm. 


	3. Victory Lap

Hancock rolled the water bottle between his hands like he was trying to throttle a clay snake. Lorna ripped the top off a box of Sugar Bombs, plopping into the living room chair on his left and grabbed a handful. Hancock kept hunching on the couch, squinting in Lorna’s direction. His thoughts bounced in his mind at the same tempo his palms switched places around the bottle, steady and deliberate. Lorna felt his eyes on her and stared back, munching a mouth full of musty sugar and spoke.

“What.” 

Hancock took a breath and resettled in his place, “I need to get something straight.”

Lorna swallowed and set the box down by her chair, “Alright.” Something inside her made her sit up straighter, plant the soles of her feet solid on the ground. Her throat constricted slightly, ready to close off completely to prevent any foreign substance into her lungs. 

“Are we…” he began carefully, trying to find the best possible combination of words to get his point across, “Is this going to be anything…” He paused, sinking into question, “Serious?”

The room gave no response, the word dropping like a cannonball. Lorna was staring at his feet with a look he couldn't read. He scrambled to fill the silence, “‘Cos I’ve had some bad experiences in the past and I just want to make sure that we’re both… on the same page here, ya know?” he finished, gesturing between the two of them.

“Oh.” Lorna thought for a second. “Yeah, no. That’s not my thing,” she said, leaning down to grab the box of sugar bombs.

“Yeah?” Hancock let this frame of reference settle in his mind. 

“No way. I think you're cute and I wanna keep it that way so, once the month is over I’ll take you home, but for now let’s keep this fun, alright?”

“Yeah… Okay.” Hancock settled back on the couch, and thought about how to proceed.  “Speakin’ a which, is there a plan for today or are we just gonna keep having fun?” he asked, rolling back into the Hancock that Lorna wanted around. 

“Well I thought I could take you to see some old pre-war shit, considering you wear some of the oldest pre-war shit I’ve ever seen. Thought you might be into it.” She said, punctuating by chomping on a handful of cereal.

“Hey, don't be knockin’ my digs, alright?” Hancock got up off the couch, and grabbed Lorna’s jacket off the bookshelf by the stairs, “I shouldn't have to hear that shit from the dumbass who wears a giant target on their back everytime they go outside.” Hancock held up the huge embroidered patch on the back of her bomber jacket; the bright blue vault 101 emblem held aloft by crossed rifles emblazoned with wings, surrounded by sturdy block letters spelling out ‘Water Woman’. The concentric circles in the design made an unmistakable target, so much so that anyone with a weapon and a grudge would have an easy time getting the job done.

“At least it’s dark!” She replied, throwing her hand up, “You look like a giant fuckin’ red flag out there.” Lorna grabbed another handful of cereal, munching with content.  _ Thank god we’re clear about that _ she thought. 

Hancock flipped the jacket over, taking a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship, “Hmph. Pretty nicely done now that I look at it. Got some bad fraying though.”

“Hm?” Lorna snapped her head up from the cereal box.

“Yeah, on the guns, see?” Lorna got up off the couch quickly and padded over to examine it, taking the jacket from him carefully. She ran her fingers along the embroidered stock, feeling the soft thread that had come undone from the ridges that held it in place. “I could probably fix that for ya.” Hancock rasped over her shoulder. 

Lorna wondered what Butch was doing now. A cold ball of nerves froze in her stomach, ice climbing around it in patterns she knew well enough to ignore. “No.” She said finally, “It’s fine.” Lorna paused for a moment, staring at something that Hancock couldn't see. He took in her eyes again; intense and radiating energy barely contained. She was in that moment wooden and unmoving, but in the next she swung her arms around and threw a fist in her jacket, throwing it on one effortless motion that had him almost breathless. “Well let's get going. Don’t wanna sit around all day like an asshole.”

“Oh, yeah,” Hancock shook out that moment and tried to act normal. He spun around himself, grabbing his jacket off the stairs, patting his pockets to make sure he had everything, and finally smacked a hand on his bare head. “Ah shit, wait, have you seen my hat?”  

Lorna stopped lacing up her boots and thought, her eyes tracing the path the two of them took after they had gotten home from the bar. “Under the couch.” 

Hancock dusted off his tricorn, tossed it on his head happily, and headed to the door. Lorna held it open and watched him as he walked through, smiling at the 5’4” ghoul beneath her. 

“You know, you are fucking adorable.” she said, following after him.

“Good to know why you’re keepin’ me around.”

  
  
“The Lincoln Memorial.” Lorna stated with grandiosity. 

“Lincin… I feel like I’ve heard that somewhere before.” Hancock thought. The two of them were standing next to where Lorna parked her bike, about a hundred feet away from the ruined steps. 

“Pretty sure he was an old world president. Freed a bunch of slaves and went to war about it.” 

“ _ A whole war _ ? How many slavers were there?” Hancock asked.

Lorna rubbed a hand on her neck, trying to remember all the history classes she skipped as a kid. “I think it was a lot. They were run by Lincoln’s cousin Lee. They fought and Lincoln won, but he was shot in the back by one Lee’s chronies.” 

“Cool dude.”

“Yeah,” She paused, “I helped some slaves set up shop here couple years back. Got back at the fucks who collared ‘em. Got the head back on the statue too.” Lorna said, tilting her chin towards the center of the monument.

Hancock paused. “Are you trying to one up Lincin?” 

Lorna smiled, looking down at him through her hair, “Is it working?”

Hancock thought for a second, rubbing an hand on his chin. “Well I can't imagine that Lincin was as stacked as you are… Don't know if he could compete with that.” 

“Good choice,” Lorna swung a leg over her motorbike and revved the engine. “Alright, next stop-”

  
“The Washington Monument.”

The two of them stood at the other end of the reflecting pool, the dark water hiding debris and trash underneath the obelisk’s reflection. Lorna remembered going up there all those years ago, looking out at this world she was just beginning to understand; knowing that somewhere out there, she would find what she was looking for. It wasn't ironic, but it sure as hell was sad. The overcast sky stared at the two of them and their silence.

“Was he… compensating for something?” Hancock asked. Lorna laughed a puff of air. “I mean I respect individual expression but…” He continued, leaning back, “It’s a bit on the nose, don't cha’ think?” Lorna curled into herself, trying to hide her chuckles. “I’m sure he was a great guy but if it were me, I’d try to steer away from making something that just screams ‘my dick is small’.” Lorna covered her mouth to try and stop her fit, smacking him in the arm. “You know, for obvious reasons, but…”

Lorna caught her breath, “Shut up you idiot!” 

“Do I need to remind you?” He cocked his head and reached for his belt.

Lorna went back to the bike, still smiling “You're such a fucking asshole.”

Hancock threw his arms wide, “Hey, that gives me an idea!” Lorna threw her head back and laughed again.

 

  
  
They had gotten to Rivet City a while ago, and got all the excitement they could out of the museum, Hancock nearly losing his shit at the big fuck-you signature on the yellowing artifact that was the Declaration of Independence. They ended up meandering through out-of-the-way halls and peeking into empty rooms as they went by. 

“It used to be a lot bigger, you know.” Lorna started, “Til the Maxson prick started scrapping it for parts. You should have seen it.” 

Hancock furrowed his brow and thought how to approach this. “...Why did you ever join those guys anyway?” He asked, looking up at her.

“They weren’t always genocidal assholes. Helped people even. Helped everyone.” Lorna stared down the hall. 

“How did that dick even get in charge then?” Hancock asked.

“It's a succession thing.” Lorna began, “When the elder I joined under died, his daughter took over. I was her sentinel. Now she was smart. Had some great plans, but…” Lorna swallowed, “She was killed in action.” Lorna paused for half a second but picked back up quickly, “She didn't have a successor so they had to go with the next best thing, and Maxson was part of the illustrious Maxson line of dick heads so, there ya go.”

“Hmph… That sounds stupid.” 

“It is,” Lorna agreed. “He started making stupid decisions so I told him off, he discharged me and I set the courtyard on fire on my way out. Never caught me though.” Lorna looked down at Hancock with a smile, which he returned with one of his own. 

“And how much does he enjoy being on your leash now?” Hancock asked, remembering the agreement between the Brotherhood and the Minutemen that Lorna facilitated back in the Commonwealth. 

“I’m not dragging him around.” Lorna corrected, a little annoyed. That feeling faded quickly though and she laughed, “He fucking hates it.” 

Hancock laughed to himself. “Man, that sounds like a dream. Always did wanna give the guy the good old one-two.” He mused, making little punches in front of him.

“You would fucking die.” Lorna told him without a trace of doubt.

“You think so? I could probably get a couple hits in, I’m fast enough.” Hancock did a little boxer’s shuffle as if to provide an example. 

“Ya know, I would really love to see that.”

“Anytime, any place, you can watch me strut my stuff.” He flexed his wiry frame to prove his point.

“I’ve already seen your stuff.” Lorna laughed. They had gotten back to the center of the boat, people still milling about the market getting the last of the day’s errands done. 

“Hey, I’m gettin thirsty, you wanna go to the bar?” Hancock asked, pointing to the sign directing to The Muddy Rudder.

Lorna stopped, looking at the sign and read something that wasn't there. “The shit here’ll kill ya. Tastes like crap.” Lorna lied. “I know a better place, I think you’ll like it more.”

Hancock wondered what she was thinking, but set the thought aside, “Lead the way.”

  
  
  


When they were at the Washington Monument earlier that day, Hancock didn't think anything of the ruined buildings bordering the empty field that was the National Mall. But now he thought more about the metro tunnel with its coffer-lined ceiling that Lorna was leading him through. It had all the signs of danger: a dark, confined maze of rubble and twisted metal. Hancock stepped carefully, hand on the sawed-off tucked into his belt and listening for the smacking mouths of ferals or the mumbled musings of idiot raiders. But Lorna carried no such caution. She walked with her powerful shoulders hunching over herself in a lazy way, kicking at rocks as she passed them. She was universes away from vigilant, more in the solar system of bored. Hancock was about to say something, but noticed he hadn’t heard anything but their own footsteps the entire time they’d been down here. It was completely empty aside from their rambling figures and the sigh of wind coming through holes in the ceiling. 

“Is it just me or should there be things trying to kill us?” Hancock asked, hand still resting on his sawed-off. 

“It's not just you, but it was mostly me.” 

Hancock stood trying to parse that sentence. 

Lorna laughed to herself, “When I was sentinel, my first job was figuring out a way to clear out the raiders and ferals. Did a pretty good job, huh?”

“Shit, I’ll say,” Hancock couldn't even think of a life without the constant pressure of raiders at the edges of his world. It was just something he had accepted as a universal constant, “How the hell did you swing that?”

“A lot of late nights. Bribery, violent threats, violent promises. One too many close calls.” Lorna kicked a rock down the hallway, watching it bounce into a pile of garbage.  

“And you did this all by yourself?” Hancock asked, skepticism dripping off every word. 

“... No.” Lorna’s chest tightened with memory. Her fists balled and a chill struck itself up her spine, the ghost of tenderness replaying itself on her skin like ice. Lorna smothered the feeling. “But I did do most of the work.” She looked back at Hancock as she started up the stairs out of the metro, glad to be leaving this concrete tomb.

  
  


Underworld was, simply put, impressive to Hancock. The biggest congregation of ghouls he’d ever seen was The Slog, but this blew the tiny settlement out of the water. Lorna schmoozed around the room, introducing and greeting a handful of ghouls while being oddly physical about it, Hancock noticed. He felt somewhat out of his depth for two reasons: one being the strange imposter feeling he felt whenever he was around pre-war ghouls, the second was that everyone here seemed to know something about Lorna that he didn't know yet. 

“This is my friend, Hancock. He’s from the Commonwealth.” Lorna said, arm slung around a ghoul she said was Tulip. 

“All the way up north?” asked Greta, taking a closer look at him.

Hancock put on his political airs, “Certified Boston trash, born and raised,” he said with a smile, tugging at his coat in a confident way, “Mayor of Goodneighbor.”  

“Mayor, huh?” commented Willow, looking him up and down- mostly down. She turned to Lorna and asked, “You finally find someone who can boss you around?” 

“Oh he wishes.” Lorna replied matter-of-factly and Tulip laughed into her neck. For some reason that image snagged itself on his mind and the harder he tried to undo it the more tangled it became.  

As Winthrop yelled over to Lorna, Carol noticed Hancock’s furrowed brow and leaned over to him in an aside, telling him quietly, “She has a reputation around here, ya know,” The wicked grin plastered on her face implying more than what was said.  _...Oh,  _ and it finally clicked. 

“Is that so?” That certainly made things more interesting. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that ended up being a lot! im getting to the part where i have more written so chapters might come out quicker for a hot minute. and thanks to everyone whose left kudos and stuff! it really means a lot and om so excited to get to the good stuff soon ;)


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